Ford had dropped off food and coffee for everyone, especially those on Silas' and Astrid's teams and then lastly the Berry family. He stood outside the ICU room for a moment, watching as Silas was kept alive with machines and tubes, seeing one of his sisters sitting with him, and Ford took a deep breath He was trying not to remember when he was in Silas' position. It took him a long time to get back, and even now he still suffered the consequences. He promised himself that he's be there for Silas, for his own journey back. "I got you buddy, I got them," he said softly, a soft promise to his friend. He knew that Silas would be there for Caliphe if it was him again. He turned and walked toward the courtyard that Atlas suggested Caliphe might be. Ford found her alone when he stepped outside. "Cal, hey," he said. He opened his arms for her, for a hug that he knew she needed.
Fandom: Gravity Falls || CW: - || Ford brainstorming on what to do about Bill and what he can do. (one shot)
______(~700 words)______
Ford tapped his pen with one hand against the notepad that had nothing legible on it. And nothing productive. His other hand was holding up his head as he looked off across the small dining room table where Stan was, at this point, doodling on the notepad in front of him.Â
Ford couldn't think straight long enough to come up with any real ideas, or even remember much of the ones they'd come up with by this point either. He felt like a loosely tied together mess right now.Â
He lifted his head up enough to scratch his hand through his hair and take a drink from his coffee.
"I don't know what to do here." Ford said.Â
Stan didn't look up or stop drawing. "Yeah, that's the whole point of this. We're figuring something out."
Ford took a look at the scrambled list in front of him, couldn't even read it, didn't have to when everything on there was scratched out.Â
"I can't do anything here." Ford angrily gestured at the table with his pen. "I fall asleep, Bill starts the portal. I stay awake, he'll find someone to send here after me."
"You're smart, you can figure something out." Stan said, looking back at him across the table. "Besides, I'm here now too, so come on."Â
Ford dropped the pen and forcibly ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. "Yes, you're here. So do something." He pleaded.
"I am doing something." Stan countered. "I'm coming up with great plans," he tapped his finger on the table and then continued a bit smug like it was enough, "and if anybody shows up looking for a fight it's not just going to be against you."
"That's great for one person, but what if five showed up?" Ford asked.
"We could handle it." Stan said, lazily waving a hand at the idea.
Ford scoffed, sinking back down in his seat, muttering lowly. "'We could handle it.'"
"Well we would." Stan said.
He held eye contact, Stan expectantly waiting and holding his gaze.
"Well?" Stan asked.
And begrudgingly, Ford didn't actually think it wasn't true. "Okay, fine." He conceded, rolling his eyes. "Yes, we would be able to handle it, but these are all short term solutions."
Ford continued, counting briefly on his fingers. "Keeping an eye out, holding onto a bat - It can't last forever. Something's going to happen eventually."Â
The one, unavoidable certainty was that this wouldn't last.Â
"I know." Stan said.Â
"So, what can we do?" Ford asked, feeling wrong for asking it when he was supposed to have the answer for the question already. Should have come up with the solution yesterday, last week, any of the thousands of moments before it'd gotten this bad.Â
"What do you got?" Stan asked.
Ford looked down at his notepad, only seeing the scribbled out lines there and mind swimming to come up with any idea or solution. "I don't... know."Â
His attention threatened to scatter away from him entirely, but he remembered Stan, saw him at the top of his vision and looked back up again to see him there. A terrible mullet, a dirty coat, not even half the mess Ford knew he looked like right now, and he was here. And that was enough to make the room lighter, less heavy.
"I've got you." Ford said. It wasn't a solution or even an idea, but it was the only thing he could see that he had right now.
"Yeah, you've got me." Stan agreed.
"That's not an idea though." Ford said.
Stan smiled casually. "Yeah, I know, but hey I'm here, aren't I?"
Ford smiled along with him, relaxing. "Yeah, you are."Â
"And I've got some great ideas." Stan said.
As Stan launched into ideas and they talked, Ford found the conversation was lost to him within seconds. He didn't remember what Stan was saying or even what exactly he said himself, even the general idea of what either one of them said a few minutes ago wouldn't stick. Except for the idea of a 'holy water grenade' from Stan.Â
Soon though, soon Ford truly lost his train of thought and- clarity came as his reality settled into cold and sore muscles and a slight headache.Â
Ford jolted all at once, waking up fully and realizing that he wasn't in his house and quickly after that he couldn't be in his house because he wasn't anywhere near home anymore.
Readjusting to his reality, he slowly pushed himself up, cold and numb. Heâd tucked himself against the wall on the cold floor of a car on the supply transport heâd hopped onto last night.
He flexed his fingers to get his blood flowing back into them and warm himself up again, taking stock of what he had.Â
âCan we not do this right now?â Ford questioned as a sigh fell past his lips. He didnât have the energy to have this argument, and he honestly was tired of having it every other day. âYou know that I work crazy hours, so I donât understand what the big deal is. This is what you signed up for when you said that you wanted to be in a relationship with me. Whatâs changed now?â he retorted as irritation was taking over, which the lack of sleep due to working a 24 hour shift wasnât helping matters either. âIf youâre so unhappy that you claim to be, then why donât you just leave?â the male added as a shrug rolled through his shoulders.Â
"Oh Narvaez-Lockhurst, you should know better than to try an challenge me concerning anything with controlling ivy. You do remember that my family is in charge of the clan, right?"
When Ford heard of everything, he knew Maj was at the wedding. While their relationship ended a while back, Ford couldn't help but feel that fear of something happening to Maj still there. He still cared. Before he could even think about it, he found himself grabbing his keys to go and find her, make sure she was alright. When he opened the door, there she was, standing there, and he found himself surprised that she even thought to come here. Without even saying anything, he moved and instantly wrapped his arms around her.
Latte art and shaky hands were never a good mix, but that didnât stop Ford from attempting anyway. He did his fifth one at this point and showed it to his sibling. âOkay, does that one look like a leaf?â he asked. It did not look like a leaf, more like a blob, but he gave a charming smile at Caliphe as if to say âlet me have this one or else youâre getting a sixth latte of the nightâ.
Fandom: Gravity Falls || Â CW: - Â || Â âImpressive, truly.â
______(~400 words)______
"Impressive, truly." Ford deadpanned.
"You got any other bright ideas?"
Looking at the gloves that Stanley had pushed pens into the 6th spots to fill out, he realized it's actually one of the better aspects of this entire plan... which is dismal to think on for more than a few seconds, so he didn't.
"No. I don't." Ford admitted, straightening Stan's outfit on himself. Reasonably, it makes sense it fits perfectly, but he didn't like that it does as thought it might as well belong on him.
Stan is silent for a beat. "Look," he started, "all you gotta do is tell me it'll end the world and fight with me. We got tons of experience with that last part."
"I never wanted to drag you into this. Fighting Bill. I was supposed to have done this myself." Ford realizes these are the last seconds he can see Stan as himself, but he keeps watch down the hallway instead for Bill's return.
Stan scoffed. "This stopped being just your fight the second he messed with the kids. Hell before then too." There was an awkward space of breath like he had been going to say something else and decided against it.
"It shouldn't have gotten to this point though, where you're forced to-"
"Sixer." He cuts him off, and Ford feels compelled to look at his brother's face. In the face of this situation, he doesn't look an ounce of a man with no other choice and Ford has never felt so distinctly polar to his own brother before. He looks every bit a hero.Â
"I'm doing this because I'm choosing to do it." Stan told him. "Got it?"
Ford nods. "Thank you."
There's the momentary split of a smile and it reaches his eyes, certain and a hint soft. Ford can't remember the last time Stan had directed that smile at him, but he knows it's been over 40 years.Â
The resounding cacophony of crashing noises rapidly start getting closer though and they both spin on their heels towards it. There's crumbling dust and bricks that smash onto the floor to split apart. Neither one of them broke their gaze from where Bill would soon be emerging, almost certainly with Dipper and Mabel in hand.
"You worried?" Stan asked quietly
A rough sound escaped Ford's chest. "Yes."
"Don't be." Stan assured him, unwaveringly ready. "We got this."
Fandom: Gravity Falls || Â CW: - Â || Â âOh please, like this is the worst I have done.â
______(~600 words)______
As soon as the door shut, Ford hopped off of the examination table and picked up the chair. âHere!â He said, half throwing it into the manâs hands in his hurry, his own hands shaking.
Stan jammed the chair underneath the door handle.
Ford opened the medical folder left behind labelled âF. McGucketâ, flipping quickly through the information with fingers that kept slipping on the papers. The address was quick enough to find, but he kept looking for anything else that could help. He had to find out what Fiddleford McGucket meant, what he was in this story.Â
âLook, calm down,â Stan said, pulling the folder over the counter and flipping through it himself. âDoctors arenât going to bust through the door with a gun, Ford.â
âIâm calm.â Ford said, skimming the pages as Stan flipped through them.
âYouâve been shaking ever since you started getting examined on the table.â Stan pointed out, much to Fordâs own chagrin.
âI am calm.â He insisted, truthfully. âA little nervous, sure, but Iâm not feeling this.â He said, letting the shaking hands hover over the table for a moment. âI donât know why my body started doing this.â
Stan didnât say anything to that, and they skimmed through the file quickly and in silence to the end of the files with the most recent visits that stopped a few months back with a broken arm.
âAlright,â Stan said, pushing the folder closed, âso whatâs next? Breaking into this guyâs house?â
Ford laughed, lightly, pulling the folder back and opening it to the first page again to stare at the information page. âIf heâs not there, I donât know.â
Stan snorted in surprise. âWow impersonation and planned breaking and entering.â He teased.Â
Ford smiled, still looking at the strangerâs information typed neatly across the page. âOh please, like this is the worst I have done.â
Blonde hair.
Blue eyes.
VOTMZRIG IVSKRX OORY
Ford stopped, staring through the paper, remembering horrified, unseeing blue eyes and a sheen of sweat over a familiar face, a cool blue light washed over the memory.
He couldnât remember any words that werenât gibberish, but when he tried to pull on the memory more all he could see were angry or disgusted expressions from that same face and him pulling away from Ford, and a prevailing sense of guilt.
âWhat did I..?â He asked, out loud, a new fear starting to hit him. A new sense of the story with a turn that scared him.
âFord?â
Ford pulled his hands away from the folder, feeling the tears spring suddenly from his eyes when he looked to Stan. âWhat if-â The hypothetical turned into such certainty that he didnât even finish it, feeling tears fall. âThis was my fault.â He said.Â
Stan paused, looking caught off guard at the sudden change, but Ford couldnât stop himself. âThis was my fault.â He said again.
âYou- No. We donât even know whatâs going on.â Stan said. âAnd- and why would you be so scared if this was-! No.â He finished firmly. âNo, it wasnât you.â
âYou donât even know me. What I was like before this.â
Why was a dangerous machine in his basement? Why did the first person he remembered look so traumatized? Why had he tried to kill his own brother in his sleep?Â
Stan pulled him into a tight hug that broke through his thoughts.Â
Ford reached up to hold onto Stanâs shoulders, needing the contact even if he didnât deserve the comfort.
âHey genius, you wouldnât be freaking out about it if whatever happened was what you wanted to happen.â Stan told him, half sarcastic. âDidnât you go to school for a frigginâ extra decade?"
Ford hiccuped a laugh, the logic taking apart the building worries in his head, bringing him back down into a grounded reality. âDonât ask me,â he said. âI donât even remember my middle name.â
âHeh, Itâs Filbrick.âÂ
âFilbrick? What an awful name. Couldnât I have gotten something better?âÂ
Stan laughed, sudden and loud like the joke had caught him truly and sincerely off guard.
